Sunday, February 28, 2010
As I look out my office window, the large pussy willow shrub by the pond is alive. I go outside to revel in late winter wonder. Not only are the catkins swollen with fuzzy life, but as you draw near, a loud hum is heard. Looking up above my head, hundreds of bees are gathering substanance from the nectar. Their tiny legs are fat with yellow, almost to the point of making them earth-bound. But they somehow stay aloft, and head towards another soft grey feeding station.